


i forget how cold it can be

by jabamis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jabamis/pseuds/jabamis
Summary: If Armin felt better with Eren around, then he didn't feel as selfish whenever he knocked at the door and he held Armin so close that they were one mess of tangled limbs.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager
Comments: 4
Kudos: 160





	i forget how cold it can be

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in like an hour because i needed a distraction  
> title from warmth by bastille

Sleep is more often than not the only respite they get— the act of being awake allows reality to dig its snarled claws in, hard and unforgiving after all the things they have seen. Since the truth of the world beyond the walls came to light, the amount of weight on their shoulders has increased tenfold, and the fact that the titans used to be their greatest threat is laughable now. There are far worse enemies that can't be dealt with by a simple slash to the nape.

However, reality sometimes manages to weave its fingers so deep into the psyche that it plagues the subconscious with whatever it can conjure. For Eren, the safety of his dreamless sleep has been snatched away, and instead he lives through memories when he should be resting. Some aren’t his own and some are, and the latter ones don’t always play out how they did in the living world. That’s when Eren wakes up gasping, tears chilling his cheeks and his hand reaching out for a burnt body that he was taken away from. One breath, two breaths, three, and he remembers that the image he just saw of a titan version of Erwin crushing Bertholdt’s skull between large teeth is a false one. Erwin isn’t here anymore, and Eren can’t fake guilt over the relief he feels at that fact.

Still, he aches at the thought of an Armin-shaped hole in his life. He still doesn’t know why exactly Levi changed his mind; the one time he asked, the captain had averted his eyes and brushed him off, and Eren wasn’t inclined to ask again. He thinks of how close Armin was from slipping out of his grasp permanently, and the image of his charred body shows up behind his eyelids more often than he would like.

He doesn’t think he will calm down for the rest of the night unless he sees him. It’s not uncommon for him to head to Armin’s room after nightmares. It’d started with reluctance on Eren’s part at first; he had knocked on the door without thinking, and Armin had answered just as quickly and automatically despite the late hour. Eren had pressed his face into Armin’s neck, murmuring apologies about bothering him, but Armin had just wrapped his arms tighter around Eren’s back. “It’s okay,” he had assured softly, tracing patterns on the skin. “It’s alright. If I can help, I want to." Eren had protested, saying Armin needed to rest, but Armin shushed him before he could get very far. "You're...you're helping me too.”

At the very least, he saw Armin doze off into sleep next to him once he was there plenty of times, so he eventually accepted the conclusion that it was mutually beneficial. If Armin felt better with Eren around, then he didn't feel as selfish whenever he knocked at the door and he held Armin so close that they were one mess of tangled limbs. After falling asleep like that, neither of them usually woke up again until sunrise.

However, Eren always refused to go to Armin’s when the nightmares he had were about him. He wouldn’t know what to say when Armin asked him what the dream was about as he always did, certain that he would hurt him by saying it was about what had happened in Shiganshina. Every time the subject was brought up to Armin during the daytime, his eyes always dulled and he hunched in on himself even more, as if he could disappear if he tried hard enough. It would be wrong to describe the details of the event to Armin during a time that was supposed to be peaceful for him, during the moments where he was supposed to forget about the cruelty they were faced with.

But he needed Armin. He needed to see him, even if it was only in the dull glow of candlelight, needed to wrap his arms around him and feel him breathe long healthy breaths.

And so, against his better judgment, he raps his knuckles against the heavy wood door ten minutes later. It’s merely ten seconds before it creaks open, and Eren can just barely make out the roundness of his blue eyes, but that telltale gleam of light is enough to lessen the tension in Eren's shoulders. Armin's worn out but alive.

“Eren,” he says, and he sounds almost relieved. “Come in.” He pulls Eren in gently by the wrist and closes the door softly behind them, settling gently back into bed and patting the space next to him. Eren wastes no time settling down on his side and immediately tugging Armin into his chest, drawing a soft noise of surprise out of the other boy, before laying his palms flat on his back and feeling the rise and fall. He sighs, settling his chin onto soft gold hair the way he has since they were children. It’s a practice that never needed to be perfected; they fit together snugly, so naturally, no matter the scenario.

Armin reciprocates, burying his face into Eren’s chest and pressing his hands on his chest. His exhale quivers and Eren can feel it so distinctly that he tightens his grip even further. Then, Armin softly inquires, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eren hadn’t decided on his course of action, so there are several beats of silence before he says, “No. This is enough, just like this.” He can feel Armin’s hesitation to accept the answer; Armin has never been good at masking curiosity and worry and it emanates off of him in waves. But Eren doesn't want to worry Armin. What's important to Eren's mental state at the moment is knowing that Armin himself is okay. As such, he quietly continues with, “...Do you want to talk about it?"

The answer is predictable; he can feel Armin’s muscles tense at the question. Eren always asks and always wants to know. Sometimes, Armin answers. Most of the time, he doesn’t, avoiding Eren’s eyes when he declines. And as much as Eren wants to push and wants Armin to be honest with him, wants Armin to know he doesn't have to put up a facade, he knows there are times to pursue the conversation and times not to.

“No,” Armin says. “This is perfect as is.” Eren can tell he’s being honest. It seems there will be little talking tonight, and that's alright with him.

“We’re okay,” Eren affirms as he pulls the covers up. "You’re okay."

“Yeah,” Armin says and curls close. "We're okay."

They drift off, intertwined, hanging on like they are each other's life rafts in an ocean they are yet to be free to see.


End file.
